ADA
INEZ SLOAN
1923-1985My Mom, need I say more?

Graduation picture
Norman High School, 1942

**********

EARL SAWER SLOANInventor of Sloan's Liniment

Earl
Sawyer Sloan, philanthropist, was born at Zanesfield, Logan County
Ohio, 8 Sept. 1848, son of Andrew and Susan
B. (Clark) Sloan, and a descendant of Andrew Sloan, who came from the
north
of Ireland after the revolution and settled at Venango County PA. He
was
educated in public schools and later studied veterinary medicine, but
never
practiced. As a youth he went to Missouri, where he joined his brother,
Foreman Sloan, in buying and selling horses, following his father's
calling.
While thus engaged he prepared a liniment for disabled animals, and by
chance discovered that the remedy he applied to their ailments and
bruises
would also relieve human beings similarly affected. He placed his
preparation
on the market as "Sloan's Liniment," which became known the world over.
Its wide and increasing use placed it in the forefront of similar
remedies,
a position it continues to hold, and it has had thousands of imitators.
In 1903 he organized for its manufacture the Dr. Earl S. Sloan, Inc.,
of
which he was president and sole owner, and which at the time of his
death
had annual sales of approximately $ 750,000. He had an extensive estate
at West Roxbury, Mass., but retained a deep interest in Logan Co., OH.,
which he was regarded as one of its most notable citizens, and every
year
visited Zanesfield, his native village. One of his many gifts to
Zanesfield
is the Sloan Library and an endowment of $250,000 for its maintenance.
His will directed that eventually all his holdings in West Roxbury,
Mass.,
be sold for the benefit of the schools of Zanesfield. He also directed
that his executors establish the Sloan Industrial School at
Bellefontaine,
Ohio, near his birthplace, for teaching trades and mechanical and
domestic
science. Substantial bequests were made to the Peabody Home for
Crippled
Children, Hyde Park, Mass.; the Florence Crittenden League of
Compassion,
Boston; the New Bern (N. C.) public library; the Masonic Lodge of New
Bern
for the benefit of the poor children of members; also to the
Presbyterian
Church, of which he was a member, and the Sloan Library, Zanesfield. He
was a Republican in politics and a Mason.

Dr. Sloan was a man of action and vision, swayed by the spirit of
unselfish service and high ideals, yet possessing a sense of proportion
that made him always practical and useful. He was married, Feb. 8,
1899,
to Bertha Parker, daughter of Nelson Woolaver, of Newport, Nova Scotia.
He died without issue at West Roxbury, Mass., Sept. 13, 1923.

Born 9 May 1833, St. Clair Township, Bedford Co. Pa.
Entered
military service at Colesburg, Delaware County, Iowa as a Private in
Company
H, 12th lowa Infantry, Union Army. Awarded the
Congressional
Medal of Honor for action at Nashville, Tn. 16 December 1864.
Award
was issued 24 February 1865, for capturing the flag of 1st Louisiana
Battery
(C.S.A.). Andrew died in 1875.

Source: Army Center of Military History:
http://www.army.mil/cmh-pg/mohciv.htm

An interesting footnote by Sandy Garafola: "You see them every so
often, maybe almost too often when you're driving through parts of
Iowa.
Small, abandoned country cemeteries. Burying grounds that have
themselves
been buried by time and the elements. And the view in passing is
almost always depressingly the same. Three and one half miles to the southeast
of the town of Colesburg, Ia. there is located what is most commonly
referred
to as the Platt Cemetery. It is undoubtedly one of Delaware
County's
oldest cemeteries. It appears abandoned. Platt Cemetery is
still not quite typical of all the other deserted cemeteries. Not
quite typical because among the thirty-five stones, is a small white
marker
of A. J. Sloan (Andrew Jackson), genuine American hero. Of
course,
with no beated path to his stone to pay homage, with no shiny plaque
telling
of his heroic exploits, with no grand monument in honor of his memory,
it is not the easiest task to locate his simple Grand Army of the
Republic
marker. But the stone, one of few standing, and bears the simple
inscription: A. J. Sloan, Co. H, 12th Iowa Infantry. No mention
of
his heroism. His medal. His terrfic claim to fame.

The story goes on to tell how a letter
to
the Colesburg Cemetery, Sexton, asking about Delaware Countie's only
Civil
War Medal of Honor winner. The Sexton starting searching for
Andrew
Jackson Sloan's history, a book blossomed and the government placed a
monument
in a Colesburg Cemetery to honor the man's memory.

I stumbled upon the author and his book,
and was able to give him the rest of the Sloan story, so to
speak.
In otherwords, AJ's ancestors and descendants. To my
surprise,
I had no record of Andrew's noteworthy deed either. The
book
describes how he stole the flag of the opposing force, thus winning the
Civil War battle, and how he tragically died in a hunting
accident
a few years later."

A
Sloan Cowboy

Joseph
“Joe” Caldwell Sloan was born 13 Oct 1836 near Cornith, Tishomingo
Co. Mississippi. Joe was one of 11 children born to Dr. Thomas
Allen
Sloan and Nancy Gill Hester. Dr. Sloan, son of Irish immigrant
Wm.
Patrick Sloan, was born in SC, but never stayed too long at one place.
At an early age, Allen’s parents moved to Wayne County Tennessee.
In 1835, Allen relocated to Tishomingo Co. MS. were he had a
cotton
plantation near Cornith. In the spring of 1848, Allen again
packed
up the family, a couple of his slaves, some livestock and headed for
Texas.
He bought and sold ranches a few more times and finally settled down in
spring of 1855 on the San Saba River at Double Ford (Sutton Crossing)
San
Saba County, Texas.

At about this time, Joe was in his early 20’s and freighting
cotton
by wagons with his older brothers. Years later, Joe related this
story to his nephew, Jymes Alan Sloan: “The Sloan boys had heavy
loads driving across the Houston Prairie, and it was very wet and of
course
boggy. Just ahead of the Sloan boys were other freighters with
slow,
weak teams, whereas the Sloan teams were strong and well cared
for.
The slow poke teams were holding the strong ones back, because they
dared
not pull out of the deep ruts and around the slow pokes, The
Sloan
boys debated among themselves trying to devise some means of getting
ahead
of the slow teams, finally William Patrick Sloan said, “Leave it to me,
I have a scheme that may work, anyway It’s worth trying.” Even in
the road the ruts being so deep and the mud so clinging a team must be
stopped ever so often to blow and rest a spell. Usually during a
rest spell teamsters would get together an chat and exchange
news.
William proceeded to carry out his scheme. Said he, In his
opinion
if a teamster pulled out of the deep muddy rut onto the turf he would
get
along easier and of course, faster. His talk was
convincing.
So, all hands fell to and the slow wagons and teams were got out the
deep
ruts, and actually did get on better for a short time, but soon the
wagons
were bogged to their axles. The Sloans being rested, now made
good
headway.”

After the outbreak of he Civil War in 1861, Joe stopped
freighting
cotton and enlisted in Company H. 19th Texas Calvary, under Capt John
M.
Stone. While campaigning in Louisiana, the company came upon the enemy
and charged. Due to the superior Yankee numbers, the company was
forced to retreat. During the withdrawal, one of Joe’s companions
had his horse shot out from under him. When Joe turned back to
pick
up his comrade, he received a gunshot wound to the left shoulder.
Eventually his left arm and shoulder had to be amputated. The
fact
that Joe had been left hand and was handicapped did not deter Joe’s
ambitions.
After the war, Joe traveled to the gold fields of California to seek
his
fortune. Family traditions has it that Joe won and lost more than
one fortune in California.

Joe return to San Saba Co. and went to work on the Chalk Bluff
Ranch
stocked by his brothers, John Elias & Nathan Rice
Sloan.
It appears that Rice sold out his interest in Chalk Bluff Ranch cattle
just as the drought hit west Texas and New Mexico By Aug 1886,
the
drought was so severe that John E. Sloan decided it was time to move
the
1,500 cattle from Brady Creek west for better grass and water.
Brother,
Joe was to head the cattle drive. John got the drive started down
the old Butterfield trail and then returned home, his son Robert
continued
on with the drive. It took one year for the drive to reach it
destination
on the Gila River in Arizona about 60 miles from Globe, half the cattle
were lost during the drive.

George Murray, a member of the hired crew, later told this story
of the drive: “In 1887, I hired out to a man named Joe Sloan, of Richland
Springs, Texas, as a cowboy. He was taking a herd of sixteen hundred
cattle
from Richland Springs, Texas to near Globe Arizona. Besides Joe Sloan
and
a foreman, named Lon? Roundtree, there were eight cowboys, a cook and a
man to take care of the horses. It was late in the fall when we left
Richland
Springs, Texas, with the cattle. We traveled up the Concho river for
sixty
miles and crossed the cattle at San Angelo Texas. We had no trouble in
crossing the river there as it was at normal stage. From San Angelo
Texas
on we were on the staked plains and had to make very long drives to
water
for the cattle. At night, three of the cowboys would stand guard over
the
cattle, in three hour shifts. The man who looked after the horses had
to
stand guard too. We had seventy-five head of horses in the rounds, each
cowboy had a mount of seven horses.

There were two covered wagons, drawn by two horses to each wagon.
One hauled our beds and the other was the "chuck" wagon. There was a
chuck
box in the back of the chuck wagon. The cook was a man and he had to
use
buffalo chips to cook with while we were on the plains. He made sour
dough
biscuits and baked them in a dutch oven. The only fresh meat we
had
were the stray yearlings that we found on the plains. We would kill
them
for meat and for a few days we would have nice fresh meat for meals as
the weather was cool enough for it to keep well.

Joe Sloan was the only man in the bunch who had a gun. We were
never
afraid of the Indians or of cattle thieves and we were never bothered
by
them.

We crossed the Pecos River at Pontoon Crossing, about one hundred
and sixty miles east of Pecos City, Texas. We had no trouble in
crossing
the cattle, although we had to swim them across.

From Pontoon Crossing we went on by way of Pecos City, Texas,
(this
town is now called Pecos, Texas) and from there we headed in a
Northwestern
direction for the Sacramento Mountains, in New Mexico. The weather was
getting cold and we needed protection for the cattle, as some of them
were
getting pretty weak. We passed through Seven Rivers, New Mexico, which
was about fifty miles north{south} of Roswell, New Mexico. Seven Rivers
was in Lincoln County at that time. From there we went to Penasco
country,
in the Sacramento mountains, in New Mexico, where Joe Sloan left five
hundred
head of the weakest cattle in a pasture, for the winter. We came out of
the Sacramento mountains at Tularosa, New Mexico, and to the north of
the
White Sands, through Mocking Bird Gap, in the [Organ?] mountains.

We watered at Mal Pais springs, which is just at the foot of the
Mal Pais, in the Organ Mountains, and from there we had to drive the
cattle
a distance of sixty five miles, without water, until we reached the Rio
Grande River. We crossed the Rio Grande near what is now Hot Springs,
New
Mexico. At Lake Valley New Mexico, we ran into an awful snow storm.
This
was in Sierra County. I left the herd, just after crossing the line of
New Mexico and Arizona, at Duncan, Arizona.”

Joe and his nephew Robert stayed in Arizona for several
years.
Joe (already missing his left arm) was stuck with rheumatism/arthritis
while living in Arizona. Hoping the change of climate would
improve
his health, he returned to San Saba County where he became a member of
the Presbyterian Church and the Masonic Lodge. Joe was never
married
and when his health soon got worse, his sister Mary and her husband
George
Campbell offered to care for Joe in their home. Relatives
generously
contributed to their finances, and George untiringly nursed him until
his
death. Joe died 28 June 1925, in San Sabe Tx. he was buried with
Masonic honors at the Wallace Creek Cemetery in San Sabe County.

Jym Alan Sloan remembered his uncle as “a man of very decided
opinions,
believed that all Yankees were minions of the Devil and that Negros had
no more soul than the beasts of the wildwood. He had great pride
of family, held that Americans of the South were the superior of all
nations
on earth. In politics, was a red hot Democrat, contending that
all
political corruptions originated in the Republican Party. He was
never neutral - no half way measure for him, either negative or
positive
whole hog or none! Generous to a fault, if he liked you, he liked you
and
said it by deed and word. If he disliked you he let you strictly
alone. He suffered long and hard but never uttered a
murmer.
God rest his soul!”

****************************

This article was abstracted and compiled by Frank Mitchell, 18
Apr
1997, from the following sources:References:1. “House of Sloan - Sloan Family Record” -The John Elias
Sloan Branch- a typed manuscript by James Allen Sloan {Jymes Alan
Sloan},
19592. A Pioneer Story narrated by George Murray, aged 74
years of Carrizozo, New Mexico, 26 Sep 1938. The story was
recorded/published
on the internet as part of the Library of Congress’s “American
Life
Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writer’s Project
1936-1940”
URL: http://lcweb2.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/

If you have more details (such as other members) concerning the
cattle
drive, please contact Frank
Mitchell

Captain
John "Bigfoot" Sloan, Indian FighterContributed by Lyle Sloan, October 1998.

Captain
John Sloan was a pioneer settler of Westmoreland County,
Pennsylvania,
an officer in the Revolutionary War, and a well known Indian fighter.
He
was appointed as Sheriff of Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania, in 1804
and served a full, 3-year term.

*****************************************************************AN INDIAN STORY[Written for the Steubenville, Ohio, Gazette about 1871]

Mr. Editor. I have just received from Colonel John Sloan,
of
Clarion Co., Pa., the following narrative, or reminiscence, of the old
Indian war times, with the request that I would have you publish it in
your valuable paper. Knowing, as he and I do, that men of our
advanced
age (he being near the close of his eighty-second year, and I being
near
the close of my eighty-third), and of olden times are fast passing
away,
and if incidents of old Indian warfare are to be gathered from the
memories
of men who have lived in the troublesome times of the last century,
when
the Indian warrior was upon the war path, if not gathered and published
now, will soon be too late, and many interesting incidents will be lost
forever. Rev. Robert A. Sherrard.

Here follows Colonel Sloan's introduction to what he has
written.
He says, "I would remark that General Orr called on me several years
since,
and got these incidents of Indian warfare, and sent them to Nevil[le]
B.
Craig of Pittsburg, who was at that time collecting incidents of Indian
warfare, and would soon have published them, but died before
accomplishing
his purpose. And, as I knew of no other person that could give
this
information, I have thought it my duty to the public to give this
narrative.

I was born on the 6th day of July, 1790, which was not long
before
my father, Captain John Sloan, and John Wallace (The Nephew of Captain
John Sloan's Wife), escaped as the only two survivors in the attack on
the Miami. No doubt they were the means in the hands of
Providence,
of saving Fort Hamilton from being captured by the Indians. I
have
given the facts as I got them from my father and John Wallace at a time
[when] my memory was strong. I have never seen these facts
published. Col. John Sloan, Clarion County, Pa.

After the foregoing introduction, we will let Colonel John Sloan,
Jr. tell the tale, as he, at an early period of his life received it
from
his father, Captain John Sloan.

"It was in the fall of 1795 that Captain John Sloan and John
Wallace,
a nephew of his, and two other men of the name of Hunt and Knott, being
fond of adventure, formed themselves into a small company for the
purpose
of making an exploring tour through the western country. Their
residences
were near Latrobe, on Loyalhanna Creek, Westmoreland County, Pa.
These four men had but two horses to carry their provisions, and had to
ride and walk time about. On their journey they stopped at Fort
Washington,
where Cincinnati now stands; and it appears they got along so far
without
any particular occurrence taking place. But they had a particular
object in view, and a strong desire to see the Miami country, some
twenty
miles further west of Fort Washington. They continued their
journey,
and encamped for the night on the bank near the big Miami river.
In the morning, after eating of such food as they had, it became the
turn
of Captain Sloan and Mr. Knott's to ride. After they had mounted
their horses and rode some distance, they were fired into by a party,
as
they supposed, of about thirty Indians. Knott was shot and fell
dead
off his horse. Captain Sloan was shot through the left side, and
another shot passed through his shot pouch on his right side, but he
did
not fall. Hunt and young Wallace, being on foot, ran for
life.
Hunt was caught and made prisoner. Wallace ran on at the top of
his
speed, and at this time an exciting scene took place; young Wallace,
running
for [his] life, hotly pursued by thirty Indians. He kept his
distance
ahead of them, until unluckily, he tripped and fell his whole length on
the ground, his gun at the same time, flew out of his hand, at which
time
his pursuers nearly had him in their grasp, but he was on his feet in
an
instant, and seizing his rifle, called at the top of his voice, 'Oh,
uncle,
don't leave me.' Captain Sloan, by this time had caught the horse
that Knott fell from when shot, and was holding him ready for Wallace
to
mount when he came up, and by that time he was nearly run down.
Wallace
made an effort to mount into the saddle, but failed, his uncle still
holding
his horse in check; he then gave his gun to his uncle, and with help he
got seated in the saddle, but not a moment too soon, for the Indians
were
by this time close upon them. But there was no need of urging
their
horses into a gallop, for they appeared to be frightened at the report
of guns and savage yells as they advanced to either kill, or take the
two
prisoners, and, as taught by instinct, went off in double quick time,
and
very soon left their pursuers far behind. The Indians gave up the
chase.

When they got clear of the Indians, Wallace said to his uncle,
'you
are wounded.' The blood was at the time trickling down the
horse's
side and dropping off his belly. Their object was to make their
way
back to Fort Washington. They knew of Fort Hamilton, standing on
the bank of the big Miami, and also knew it was their duty to inform
the
garrison of the near approach of the Indians then in the
neighborhood.
Accordingly, they called at the Fort, and the inmates became much
alarmed
on getting the information, and insisted on them staying at the Fort
over
night. They agreed, and did stay as requested. They were up
early next morning, anxious to get back to Fort Washington, where
medical
aid could be had, as Captain John was suffering from his wound.
But
they soon found their chance was small to get to Fort Washington, for
on
opening the gate of the Fort about break of day the next morning, they
found it surrounded by about three hundred Indians. Fort Hamilton
was but weak at the time, as it contained but about twenty men, women
and
children, and a young officer who had charge of the Fort. The
Indians
demanded a surrender. The young officer said to Captain Sloan
that
they could not hold the Fort against such a vast number of Indians and
thought it best to surrender. 'No,' said Captain Sloan, 'we will
not give up the Fort.' 'Well,' said the young officer, 'you must
take the responsibility, and the command of the Fort also.'
Captain
Sloan agreed to do so, and went up to the top of the Fort, in full view
of the enemy, and had a talk of near an hour on the subject of
surrender.
And here it may be well to observe that any prisoners in possession of
the Indians, under such circumstances, if a surrender is not made, are
sure to meet immediate death. Hunt, whom they had made a prisoner
the day before, was with them, and standing along side of the
interpreter
pleading with all the eloquence in him, for Captain Sloan to give up
the
Fort, knowing well what would be his fate if no surrender was
made.
(Hunt, the prisoner, was taken away and tomahawked in the most savage
manner.*)
Captain Sloan told them the garrison had no fear of what they [Indians]
could do; that they might come on; that they had ammunition and
provisions
plenty, and would fight as long as they might think proper, and then
stepped
down that instant out of view, before the interpreter gave the
information
to the Indian chief. Their guns the next instant went off like a
clap of thunder, accompanied by the Indian war-whoop, which was kept up
during the night. The writer heard Captain Sloan say he never
felt
the least fear at the time of the conversation with the Indian
interpreter,
nor at any time during the fight. At night, the Indians made an
effort
to burn the Fort, but it did not succeed, as they were fired
upon.
During the seige, an Indian took Captain Sloan's horse out of the
stable,
and had the Captain's cocked hat on, which he lost the day before in
the
skirmish at the time he was wounded in the left side. The Indian
rode round in a circle far enough to be out of the danger from the guns
of the Fort. The Indians took all the horses with them when they
left.

The way Captain Sloan took a scalp off one of their braves is
worthy
of notice. It occurred during the fight. A large Indian got
in pretty close to the Fort, behind a corn crib, under cover from the
guns
of the Fort, and after being in that retreat for some time, it appeared
that he got tired of it, and concluded to get away. At the time,
Captain Sloan was sitting on a block at a port hole, unable to load his
gun, but had a man to load for him, as his wounded side was in such a
situation
as not to give him a chance to exercise himself as such an occasion
required.
He kept his eye close on the big Indian behind the corn crib. The
Indian put the barrel of his gun out past the end of the crib, in order
to get some one to shoot, that he might bounce out and get to a more
safe
situation. Captain Sloan fired and immediately grabbed another loaded
rifle.
The moment the Indian made a spring out from the crib and turned to
make
off, the Captain shot him through the shoulders and he fell dead in his
tracks. (The account in The Clarion Republican said that Captain
Sloan shot and brought him to the ground, whereupon he crept back under
the corn crib where he died.)

The fight continued for twenty-four hours, when for some cause,
probably
the Indians were afraid of reinforcement from Fort Washington, they
left
in great haste, after burning every thing they did not roast and eat,
taking
with them all the horses belonging to the Fort, and went immediately to
where the big Indian lay that he [Captain Sloan] had shot during the
fight,
but he was too close to the Fort to be taken away by his comrades. The
Indians, fearing reinforcement of the Fort, finally withdrew. After
they
had gone, Captain Sloan went to the Indian he had shot and pulled out
the
dead Indian's knife from its scabbard and took off the Indian's scalp,
the hair of which was strung full of beads, which Captain Sloan brought
home with him as a trophy. The loss of this warrior might have
had
the effect of discouraging the Indians and induced them to give up the
seige."

Colonel Sloan here presents to the rising generation another
incident
of Indian depredation in a warfare perpetrated on defenseless whites on
the frontier settlement. He says, in connection with the
above:
"I think it my duty to give another instance of Indian warfare, always
attended with acts of savage barbarity. And I submit it the more
willingly as I have never saw [sic] it published. I presume I am
the only person living that is acquainted with the facts, as the
occurrence
took place in the neighborhood near where my father, Captain John
Sloan,
then resided.

It was in 1791 that a party of Cornplanter Indians (about 4 or 5)
came to the house of a family by the name of Mitchell, consisting of a
mother, daughter and son, who resided about two miles up the Loyalhanna
creek, above where Latrobe now stands, in Westmoreland County,
Pa.
The daughter and son, Susan and Charles, were in the stable loft when
the
Indians came in sight, Charles, who was about seventeen years of age,
undertook
to make his escape by running, but was captured while crossing
Loyalhanna
creek. While the Indians were engaged capturing Charles, Susan
had
the presence of mind to go into the horse stable and turn a large horse
trough over her. When the Indians returned, after capturing
Charles,
Susan was nowhere to be found. They then went to the house, and
took
Mrs. Mitchell prisoner, and made their retreat northword [sic].
By
the evening of the same day, the Indians found that Mrs. Mitchell was
unable
to travel, and part of the Indians fell back with her, and a part
continued
their march, and when night overtook them, they kindled a fire, and
soon
had the scalp of Mrs. Mitchell, and took the pains to dry it before the
fire, and that, too, in the presence of her son, Charles. They
continued
their march next morning, and when they got near Mahoning creek, in
Armstrong
County, Pa., they came on the tracks of two white men, where their
course
led them across a low wet piece of ground. At this point, the
tracks
of the two white men lead off along the side of the ridge.
Charles
Mitchell and the Indians saw these two men at a distance. Charles
knew them to be Captain Sloan and Hardy Hill, they being his near
neighbors.
There was snow on the ground, and it being soft, and Captain Sloan
being
a large man, six feet three inches, with moccasins pretty well patched,
made a large track. One of the Indians pulled out his ramrod and
measured the moccasin track, and holding it up said, 'great sarawick,
great
sarawick;' 'yes,' said Charles, 'that's big Captain Sloan, a great
Indian
fighter.' It appeared that the Indians had thought of attacking
them,
and Mitchell knew that his fate was sealed if they did. So it
happened
that the big moccasin track prevented an attack. When Captain
Sloan
and Hill came down off the side of the ridge, they came on the Indian
tracks,
and concluded that by getting ahead of them they would cross Mahoning
creek,
and probably might defeat the Indians; but upon examining their tracks
they discovered a white man's in company, and knowing if they would
attack
them, the Indians would kill the prisoner, they gave it up, not knowing
at the time that the white man with the Indians was Charles Mitchell,
their
neighbor. I may as well remark that my father, Captain Sloan,
after
returning from the seige of Fort Hamilton, received the appointment of
Captain of Rangers, or Indian Spies, and was out at this time making
observations
and discoveries with regard to the better defense of the frontier
settlements
against the inroads and depredations of the savage Indians. At
the
time of the capture of the Mitchell family, the writer was the youngest
of five small children [Ann, Margaret, Lavinia, Samuel, and John], with
their mother residing about three-fourths of a mile north of the
Mitchell
family. If the Indians had come to our place instead of the
Mitchell's,
there could not have been any resistance made, as my father, Captain
John
Sloan, was out on the frontier at the time. It was also well
known
to the old settlers of these early times spoken of above, that Simon
Girty,
who was well known at the time and place of the burning of Colonel
Crawford,
the 11th day of June, 1782, in Upper Sandusky, Crawford County, was
also
with the Cornplanter Indians in 1791, giving them directions.
Simon
Girty knew Captain Sloan, and that it would not be advisable to go to
his
place had he been at home."

After transcribing to near the close of Colonel Sloan's
narrative,
I omitted to let the public know what became of Charles Mitchell, for I
knew that inquiry would be made, as to whether he had been killed or
not.
Accordingly, I wrote to Colonel [John] Sloan [Captain John Sloan's son]
and in due time received the following reply:

Limestone, Pa, Jan. 3, 1872

Mr. Robert A. Sherrard - Dear Friend: - I will supply the
omission
with regard to Charles Mitchell. He was taken to Cornplanter's
town,
and adopted by an old squaw, whom he had called mother, and had to obey
her commands. After remaining a prisoner for three years, he was
set at liberty, and returned back to his old home in the same
neighborhood
from whence he was made a prisoner, and in due time he married and
settled
upon the old homestead farm, where he raised up a worthy, respectable
family.
I worked many a day with Charles Mitchell on my father's farm after his
return home. His three years captivity among the Indians had no
influence
upon his habits of industry, nor did he ever complain of hard, harsh
treatment
during his captivity. He had to help the squaws to hoe their
corn,
and he thought they worked too late some days, but his mother, the old
squaw, would see to it that he should hoe another row before he quit
work.

Col. John Sloan.

The foregoing narrative is submitted for perusal, it being the
first
time it ever appeared in print.

* Edited out of the newspaper story.
**************************************The above manuscript, written by Col. John Sloan, was again
published
in The Clarion Republican, Vol. 36, June 16, 1904, Clarion, Pa., with
the
following lead-in:Westmoreland Lore -- Thrilling Incidents of Indian Wars in Early
Local History -- Captain Sloan an Actor--

The following thrilling incidents were handed to us by Mr.
Thos. Scott Sloan, formerly of Clarion County, now of Greensburg, found
in an old manuscript written by his father, Col. John Sloan [about his
father, Captain John Sloan], who was Sheriff of Westmoreland County
[Penn.]
in 1814 [18o4], and who lived on the Loyalhanna Creek near
Latrobe.
The manuscript is nicely and plainly written by Col. John Sloan, and
has
been in the keeping of Thos. Scott Sloan, his son, since 1872.
Col.
John Sloan was well known in Clarion County. He resided in the
vicinity
of Limestone. He was a surveyor and spent a great deal of time
running
lines all over this county [Clarion]. The following is the
story:
[See above.]

It may be noted that in the matter of the capture of
Charles
Mitchell, the following was omitted: It was long currently
reported
in that neighborhood among the descendants of the old settlers that the
party of Cornplanters first came to a man by the name of Cleckhorn;
that
Cleckhorn, in order to save his own life, told them of the defenseless
family of Mitchell, that he saved his life by so doing; and that
afterwards,
when this thing came to be known to the others, he lived a miserable
life
amongst them, and finally was compelled to sell his place and remove
from
there to the West, where he died. (See local history of Derry
township,
Pa.) Check
here to see worn copy of original clipping

Samuel
Sloan, Architect of Philadelphia
(I'm still looking for a bio on Samuel Sloan. In the meantime, this
is what I have.)

Italian VillaNovember 1852, Samuel Sloan, Architect

A onetime resident of 152 South Fourth Street,
Philadelphia, he
is the subject of Harold N. Cooledge, Jr.'s 1980 biography "Samuel
Sloan,
Architect of Philadelphia." In 1852 Samuel published
"Sloan's
Victorian Houses" a best seller of it's day. Other writings
include
"Sloan's City and Suburban Architecture", "Sloan's Constructive
Architecture",
and "Model Architect".

If my research is correct (I've seen conflicts!), Samuel
Sloan was
born 7 March 1815 in Honeybrook Township, Chester county
Pennsylvania.
He is third of seven children born to Irish immigrant William Sloan and
his second wife, Mary Kirkwood. In 1843 he married Mary Pennell, the
daughter
of James and Mary Pennell. Mary was born 3 October 1820 in
PA. and died 10 November 1891 in Philadelphia. They had at least three
children: 1. Ellwood Pennell 2. Howard L. and 3. Ada Sloan.
Samuel Sloan died 1884 in Philadelphia, PA.

Cooledge states "Samuel Sloan did not climb to the top of
his profession;
he began there.” His buildings are considered National Landmarks
and include:1. The beautiful but unfinished "Longwood Plantation" of
Natchez,
Mississippi.2. The Fulton
Opera House of Lancaster, Pennsylvania.3. Know of any others?

I have not seen a copy of Cooledge's book, so any
additional
information or corrections is much appreciated.

Frank Mitchell

This Webpage is always looking for more Sloan related articles,
if
you would like to submit a story just drop me a note. Also, your
corrections, comments and suggestions are welcome.